


Five times House and Wilson had SWS (Sex While Stupid) and one time they didn't

by hwshipper



Category: House M.D.
Genre: 5 Things, Barebacking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-15
Updated: 2007-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:02:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwshipper/pseuds/hwshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various sexual encounters of House & Wilson that went wrong over the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five times House and Wilson had SWS (Sex While Stupid) and one time they didn't

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Contains references to unprotected sex, which is absolutely not condoned (as the fic hopefully conveys).  
> A/N: for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/houseonmywilson/profile)[**houseonmywilson**](http://community.livejournal.com/houseonmywilson/)  Joy of Gay Sex prompt: Barebacking. **  
> BETA**: excellent advice as ever (including 'make it pornier') from [](http://starlingthefool.livejournal.com/profile)[**starlingthefool**](http://starlingthefool.livejournal.com/)

_"Every patient who comes in here for an __STD__ test has one thing in common. They had __SWS__. 'Sex While Stupid'." _House, 3.12 _One Day One Room._

***

The first time it was Wilson's fault.__

They hadn't known each other long, they were still in that blissful phase of discovery, spending hours alternately talking and necking. They had fucked before, but not many times. They were lying like spoons that evening, Wilson behind, and Wilson was finger-fucking House with one hand while reaching round to jerk him off with the other. Wilson was so occupied with making House repeatedly utter tiny moaning noises, and his fingers were sliding in and out so slickly, that he found his own hard dick sliding in too, almost before he thought about it. The sensation of being inside House—ohmygod so fucking _tight_—brought Wilson to climax almost immediately. House, jolted abruptly to his own orgasm, took a few seconds to realize what had happened.

House, a resident, had seen a lot more STD cases at that time than Wilson had, as a med student. Wilson was contrite, but House gave him hell. In fact House nearly didn't forgive him at all.

***

The second time it was deliberate, and consensual.

Right after the first time, House took a syringeful of blood out of Wilson's arm (rather more brutally than Wilson thought strictly necessary) and from his own arm (rather more expertly than Wilson would have expected) and submitted them both for STD tests at the hospital under false names.

House walked into Wilson's room a couple of days later and flung the results down. Wilson glanced through them quickly; both of them negative for everything, thank Christ for that. Having made Wilson swear blind that he hadn't had sex with anyone else since he'd taken that blood sample, House then threw his arms around Wilson and growled, "You'd better fucking well enjoy this then, as we're never doing this again."

House spent the next hour fucking Wilson every which way he could. Wilson remembered it afterwards as a daze of pleasure and passion and sweat and other bodily fluids.__

***

The third time it was both of them who were stupid, really stupid, no excuses.

Wilson had come up to Boston for the weekend to see House, and they'd both got stoned and drunk too much. Next morning they woke up, naked and draped over each other, neither with a clear memory of what they'd gotten up to. Except that they both vaguely recalled taking it in turns to fuck the other. And there weren't any signs of used condoms around House's apartment.

They were left deeply uncomfortable by the situation, and the more so as they were both in other relationships at the time. Wilson was married to Bonnie; House had a girlfriend, a Spanish girl with raven dark hair, flawless skin and not very good English. House and Wilson each went back to their respective hospitals and surreptitiously ran tests. In the period while waiting for the results, House took the opportunity to teach his girlfriend the English for _'this idiot friend of mine called Wilson'_; Wilson invented a convenient lengthy hangover headache, leaving Bonnie wondering indulgently about the wild weekend James and Greg must have had.

***

The fourth time it was House's fault.

The infarction was a few months behind him and he was miserable and raging; his leg hurt _all the fucking time_, and Stacy had left him, and the new pills he was taking, the Vicodin, had numbed the hell out of what little sex drive he had left. He was so agog to find himself with a hard-on that was apparently going to last, that when Wilson walked in that evening House was not going to risk losing it by coating it in latex. Wilson, tired after a hard day's work, was caught by surprise by a House who hadn't been horny like this in quite a while, and who was intent on jumping him the minute he took his coat off.

Wilson was cold enough to House afterwards that House felt the need to hide his residual guilt by snapping that that he'd had sex with precisely two different people in the last five years, as Wilson knew damn well. One being Stacy and the other being (albeit on a rather intermittent basis) Wilson himself.

Wilson bit his lip at the mention of Stacy, knowing House thought her as pure as driven snow, and decided not to tell House about the handsome guy in that Short Hills law firm, who Wilson knew had (at the very least) influenced Stacy's decision to go.__

***

The fifth time it was nobody's fault, it was an accident.

It was the evening after House's unsuccessful date with Cameron. Wilson had been fucking House quite slowly and deliberately, up against the back of the couch, House leaning on his arms and biting fabric to keep upright. It was only afterwards that they realized simultaneously that they were both a lot more sticky than they should have been.

House tried to blame Wilson for getting cheap crap condoms off the drug rep ("Who gives a shit about the built-in antibiotics when the fucking things fall apart under the first sign of stress?") but they both knew it could have happened to anyone.

Wilson found a bright side. "Better it was me fucking you than you fucking Cameron with this one, right?"

House shuddered, and reflected that whatever the consequences of SWS with Wilson, pregnancy was not one of them, thank fuck for that.__

***

The last time it wasn't SWS at all.

"So here's the deal," House said to Wilson. They were lying on House's couch; House on his back with his head on the arm of the couch, Wilson curled up next to him. "Now that you've finally moved out of that fucking hotel, and in with me—more than two years after I first asked you to, by the way—tomorrow morning we get both of us tested for every STD in the book. And when they all turn out negative, we go bareback. And never fuck anyone else ever again."

As he spoke, House felt a knot in his stomach at the prospect of putting faith in Wilson—in anyone—like this. _Everybody lies_, after all. House, running his fingers through Wilson's hair, grasped a couple of strands and tugged, trying to convey that he was serious.

Wilson turned on his side to face House. He reached up and tweaked a couple of strands of House's hair in return. "Now why the hell would we want to fuck anyone else ever again anyway?"

House felt Wilson's cock pushing up against his hip. "Well, when you put it like—_that_." He felt his own cock move in response, hardening inside his jeans.

They lay necking for a few minutes, then Wilson bit House's earlobe gently and muttered, "One last time for old time's sake?"

"Yeah," House murmured back, and put an arm round Wilson to feel inside the back pocket of Wilson's jeans. He found the small foil packet there as expected, grasped it between two fingers and pulled it out. __

"You stay where you are," Wilson said gently, and stood up to quickly strip. House pulled off his own pants and lay back again, rolling on the condom. Wilson found lube in another pocket, then came to straddle House. House watched, his own erection growing even harder, as Wilson smeared lube onto his own fingers and then worked them up his own ass. Fuck, what a _sight_.

Wilson then eased himself down onto House's cock; House groaned and squirmed and thrust upwards as far as he could, pushing down on the couch with both hands. Wilson shut his eyes, breathed heavily, and started to move up and down, carefully controlling each move, slowly at first, then quicker, grasping the back of the couch for support with one hand, leaning with the other hand on House's chest. House panted and bucked his hips, straining to move with Wilson, knowing he was already close, trying to hold back now.

Then House reached out to take Wilson's own cock in one hand, and with one practiced roll, suddenly, quickly, Wilson was right there too. Wilson lost control and brought his ass downwards sharply towards House's crotch. House saw stars and came with a sharp cry, driving further up inside Wilson than he thought possible; Wilson let out an agonized gasp and came into House's hand and over his chest.

The two of them lay panting together for a minute.

Then Wilson rolled off House and said between breaths, "See, no reason to fuck anyone else. Ever."

Speech still beyond him, House just nodded back.

END


End file.
